


Don't Hate The Player, Hate The Game

by Padfoots_Pawprint



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: College AU, Cute, M/M, Pocky Game, klance, students in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-14
Updated: 2016-11-14
Packaged: 2018-08-30 22:25:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8551522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Padfoots_Pawprint/pseuds/Padfoots_Pawprint
Summary: Keith wants to finish his translation assignment but Lance has other plans in mind; plans that involve Pocky.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I forgot that Pocky Day was 11/11. But I figured that since I've had this written up for a while, better late than never, amiright?  
> Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Voltron: Legendary Defenders

Keith didn't know what would be worse: humouring Lance and playing the stupid game he was trying to shove in his face or continuing to suffer through the strange Altean literature that Professor Allura had assigned him. The curved symbols that littered the page seemed more foreign the longer he worked through the novel. Even the Altean to English dictionary wasn't extremely helpful. It was confusing and a bit frustrating, but Keith didn't know if that could be comparable to spending time with Lance which seemed to elicit a similar response from him.

“Please,” Lance was saying, still sitting at the end of Keith's bed. “I'm so bored. I can't do this anymore.”

“There are plenty of other people that could play with you.”

“Nah. Hunk and Pidge have midterms and even the lovely ladies that I normally pretend to entertain said they were busy. Everybody is studying.” Keith stared at him, waiting for the context of their current predicament to settle in. After a few solid seconds, Lance's expression morphed into one that was mildly abashed. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Keith went back to looking at the Altean scrawl.

“So you know the Pocky game, right?”

“ _Lance_.”

“What?” Keith's sharp look was met with a wheedling one. “Come on, Keith. Just one game.”

“I don't-”

“Think of it like a break. You've been studying this book for hours, and you haven't flipped the page in the half hour that I've been here.”

“Translating takes time,” Keith reminded him. But he was already putting away the novel. He slipped both items onto the floor before leaning against the wall. Lance lit up, helping Keith clear his bed before pulling a red box from his bag. “Alright. Explain.”

“Right. So you basically have Pocky, right?” He held up the box and Keith saw thin biscuits with what appeared to be chocolate coating one half of it assorting the front. “And each of us start eating at different ends. Whichever of us lets go of the stick first loses. You up for the challenge?” He wiggled his eyebrows but Keith remained unaffected.

“So basically it's a game of chicken.”

“I, uh, yes?” Lance shrugged. “Don't really play it for the name. Are you in or what?”

“What kind of fun could this possibly be worth?” he asked even though he was starting to grasp why Lance had wanted to play this with girls. If both were to play till the end, they'd end up kissing one another, by accident or otherwise. Would Keith be willing to take that risk?

“Well, I mean I'm in it for the glory. Who else will be able to say they beat Keith Kogane in the Pocky game?”

He hadn't wanted to fall for the bait so easy, but what could he say? Lance just had a way of firing him up. And the possible chance to kiss him was a bonus. “Why do you always assume that you're going to win?”

“Uh, because I am. Face it, Keith, I've got a lot more experience.”

“But not more skill,” he mumbled as he straightened his back and leaned in. “Let's play, McClain,” he said. “I'm going to smoke you out.”

“I'm glad you've got confidence,” said Lance. He opened the box with ease and tore open the white packaging with his teeth. “It's going to make beating you that much sweeter.”

This was one of the things he liked about Lance, Keith supposed. The other boy might be obsessed with competitions, but he was never less friendly in it. There was a playfulness in their rivalry that significantly surpassed any animosity they had once harboured towards one another. Lance was predictable in that sense, and it comforted Keith immensely to know that his stupidly friendly companion could be counted on to make things feel easy and effortless.

As if playing a game that could end in a kiss with your self-proclaimed rival was no big deal.

Lance took a Pocky stick out of the box and held it up. “And this, my friend, is our Pocky of choice. Prepare to lose, mullet.”

“That's,” Keith began as he surveyed the stick, “kind of small, don't you think?”

“It's not about the size, Keith,” said Lance with a false air of wisdom, “it's about how much of it we eat before you chicken out.”

“Let's do this.” It took a moment, but soon Lance's teeth had one side and Keith's had the other.

“Ready?” asked Lance awkwardly.

Keith responded by carefully nibbling his end of the stick. Almost immediately, he was tasting smooth chocolate and the pretzel part of the snack. Seeing him get a head start, Lance mirrored him, biting a little piece off and making sure the Pocky stayed safely in his mouth. He watched Lance swallow and throw him a suggestive look. One that said 'go ahead'. Following the prompt, Keith took another small bite. When Lance did the same, he could feel his friend's breath trickle past his chin. He tried to avoid looking Lance in the eye but it didn't seem to be working. The closer they got, it seemed like his eyes were the least awkward thing to gaze into, and when he was looking at the blue of them, they were filled with determination. Lance was certain that Keith was going to lose. He had so much confidence, so much bravado, that it made Keith want to win for the sake of seeing Lance defeated.  

“Lance.”

“What?”

“Scared?

“Not on your li-” Just like that, Keith felt the steadiness of Lance's hold disappear and to Lance's dismay, his tongue had pushed the Pocky out of his mouth. His eyes widened, horror overtaking his expression as he realized what had happened. “ _NO_.”

Keith finished the Pocky, pausing only once to laugh at the face Lance was making. A cute mix between a pout and a scowl was the only way he could describe it.

There was no 'salt-on-the-wound' comment from Keith -he could tell that Lance had been expecting it- and that seemed to rile him up even more.

“Shut up.”

“I didn't say anything.”

“I demand a rematch.”

“You think it'll change anything?”

“Oh, I know it will. This is going to end the  _true_  way, Keith.” He pulled another stick out. “Rematch.”

Keith smirked at the challenge. He'd never play the 'Pocky game' but he had already formulated a few strategies on how to win just from their one match. Lance was easy to distract and it  _would_  be his downfall.

Lance placed one end in Keith's mouth before taking up the other.

“Prepare to lose.”

“In your dreams.”

Lance seemed to start at a faster pace than before. Perhaps in a foolish attempt to intimidate him, perhaps not, but either way Keith met his enthusiasm with short languid bites as if daring his competition to rush through most of the snack and choke.

“Keith,” Lance grunted despite the stick between his teeth.

“Problem?”

“ _Play the game_.”

“I am.” He took another bite, aware that his breath kept landing hotly against the chocolate which caused it to melt a bit and stick to the edge of his mouth. Awkwardly, his tongue flicked out to wipe the chocolate away but the stick seemed to be making it difficult. His hand came up instinctively to move it away but he heard Lance reproach him.

“That's cheating. No hands on the stick,” he said. Lance's eyes seemed to keep flicking down to something and Keith half-thought that he'd gotten chocolate on his shirt. But then he noticed that it was his  _mouth_  that had attracted Lance's eyes, and as he tried to fight off a smirk, he could see colour coming up to tint his companion's face and it was peculiar. What could Lance have to be embarrassed about? It had been his idea to play the stupid game. Unlike him, Keith actually had affectionate feelings he had to suppress at such close proximity. If anyone was going to be blushing, it ought to have been him.

“Lance, I-”

“Stop trying to trick me, Keith.” He took another small bite. “Not falling for it.”

He breathed through his nose in a manner so like a sigh.“Idiot.”

“You're the-” The Pocky slipped out of his mouth again and Lance let out a frustrated shout.

“Idiot,” Keith said again, stifling laughter as he ate the rest of the Pocky.

Lance groaned. “I am so sick of you winning.”

“Guess you can't say 'best two out of three' now.”

“Winner of the next one takes all?” he suggested and Keith shrugged.

“If I win, this is the last round.”

“Not a chance.” Lance lined up the stick again and bit into the end. “I'm gonna win for sure.”

“Not if you keep talking like that,” said Keith, balancing the stick between his teeth again.

They went at it again. If anyone else had asked Keith how he thought this exchange was going to go down a few hours prior, he would have been certain to tell you that he'd just best Lance in the game and be done with it. He would have won and returned to his Altean literature without any disturbances from Lance and all would be well. He did not account for Lance to actually focus in this round, to determinedly bite away the edges and slow as they got closer. Keith could not have predicted the way that tightly gripping his pants couldn't balance him or that his hands would reflexively move up, latching onto Lance's shirt whilst the other fixed itself on his shoulder. He did not think that Lance would do the same thing, his hands mirroring Keith's in position as the space between them dwindled.

Keith certainly did not expect his  _very_  unplatonic feelings towards Lance to flare up when he felt the heat of Lance's breath on his face. The chocolate mingled with body lotion, a lush almond that matched Lance’s skin, and Keith tried not to make of show of the inhale. Lance was thumbing Keith's shoulder in smooth circles and his eyes.... It was ridiculous how blue they were, and deep, and clear, and now that they were so much closer to one another, Lance's eyelids were starting to droop. He wasn't tired, and the look he was giving Keith brought forth a hot roil in his gut. Keith's eyes turned heavy lidded as well, their lips were millimeters away, and Keith realized that this was it. He was going to kiss his best friend and crush over a  _Pocky stick_. And he'd have to deal with the aftermath of it possibly getting weird and awkward and, oh, what would  _Shiro_  say? Probably something like, “Keith, you know better than to pursue something without thinking of the consequences”. Yeah, that sounded like something Shiro would say.

Lance made a noise in the back of his throat and it was something that Keith almost leaned into. Almost forgot he was playing a game.

For a moment, Keith let himself imagine that he was going to kiss Lance because he wanted to, because  _Lance_  wanted to, because they liked each other. He entertained the idea of meeting the slightly chapped lips in front with his own, and then repeating that exchange until he had no more air left in his pitiful lungs.

Maybe he was really the pitiful one, Keith thought as his eyes slid shut, but he was going to enjoy this, no matter how brief and one sided it was. A quick peck, a fleeting moment of bliss and then nothing. He could move on and-

There was a tight clamp on his nose and suddenly he wasn't just breathless; he genuinely  _could not breathe_. Keith's eyes flew open and he watched as Lance pulled away, chewing what remained of the Pocky stick that had fallen out of Keith's mouth.

“I did it!” he cheered loudly while the reality of the situation sunk in for Keith. That little shit.

“You cheated!”

“No I-”

“You literally plugged my nose so I'd let go!” Keith said, flushing hard at how close he'd been to kissing the insufferable idiot. He'd been a mix of anxious and excited, and to be cheated of that by such a complete  _idiot_ -

“I beat Keith Kogane!” Lance said, letting out a whoop of laughter before leaning in. His eyes sparkled at his win that he had  _absolutely cheated_  out of Keith and Keith didn't know whether he was swooning or still angry. “How'd you like  _that_ , Mull-”

He was both, Keith decided, and Lance was infuriating. At least, that was what Keith was thinking as he grabbed the front of Lance's shirt and forced their mouths together. He swallowed the rest of Lance's insult and burned his feelings into the kiss. It was rough and a little clumsy, but Keith wasn't really thinking. He was annoyed at Lance's lack of care, sad that he hadn't gotten the kiss he'd been resigned to receive and a bit angry that Lance had thought cheating in a stupid game was worth it. By the time his mind caught up with his mouth and he realized what he'd done, it was too late. He was  _kissing_  Lance. At first, there was resistance and he felt like perhaps he'd overstepped his boundaries. Lance's hands were on his shoulders, tight against the cotton, and Keith thought he would get pushed away. Yes, the game came with the possibility of a kiss and it was chance that both participants entertained simply by playing it. And kissing Lance was more of a win for Keith than it was for Lance, who clearly saw it as a loss.

But perhaps it was not so clear, because when Keith began to pull back Lance's mouth followed, pressing tightly to his. The fist full of his shirt smoothed out cotton to slide up his neck and tangle thin fingers into Keith's hair instead. Their lips moved together with more energy than either boy expected and Keith felt his face burn. He broke away first, a question dying on his lips as Lance kissed him again, the boy's eyes still closed. Keith wasn't sure if he was supposed to be over thinking it or enjoying it and settled on a bit of both. Keith relaxed his grip and his palms were drawn to Lance's hips instead. They rested themselves there now and pulled Lance closer. They closed the gap and Lance's chest bumped against his own.

There were only so many dreams Keith could have had to prepare him for this but none of them could measure up to Lance actually kissing him. And kissing him. And  _kissing_  him some more. It continued far longer than Keith had anticipated and when Lance finally pulled away – sharply, as if finally realizing what he was doing- it was just after Keith had made a contented hum resonate in his throat at Lance's long fingers scratching the scalp.

They stared at each other, separated and in awe a little bit, and the blush coating both their faces seemed to say more than the boys themselves. Lance seemed to want to speak but Keith was first, his lust not quite muting his previous annoyance.

“What was that?”

“What was what?”

“You kissed me.”

“Actually,  _you_  kissed  _me_.”

“And then I stopped,” Keith reminded him, “and then  _you kissed me_.”

“I didn't-”

“Do you like me?” he asked abruptly. The hope was too much to bear alone and the thought that this feeling, this ridiculously strong feeling, could be mutual was something he had to act on while the evidence still lay fresh before them.

“Of course not, I-”

“Then why did you kiss me?”

“I didn't-”

“How can you say you didn't kiss me when you have your hands stuck in my hair? Try again, idiot.”

If Lance's tan face could look any redder then it did just then, it would have. He squawked and removed his hands immediately. “Do you like me?”

“I...” The hesitation was brutal but Keith waited even though he knew he wasn't good at it. He waited like his life depended on it. “Yes?”

The elation Keith felt was nothing short of ecstatic, but the questioning tone of Lance's voice stopped him from feeling completely joyful.

“Why aren't you certain about that?”

“Why should I be? I thought you didn't like me!”

“I'm not friends with people I don't like.”

“No, that's not what I meant. I mean, you don't like  _me_.” Lance’s hands hit his own chest with a muffled slap. “You never did! Your type has always been into other super cool, super hot guys. Right up there with your kind, you know?”

“You think I'm cool and hot? Must be my lucky day,” joked Keith and felt his blood sing with the knowledge that his feelings were returned. Lance found him  _attractive_ , and even though he would never call himself vain, he couldn’t help but be pleased by that omission. 

“I don't-” Lance groaned and buried his face in his hands. “This is embarrassing.”

“Is that why you wanted to play the Pocky game? Because you thought it'd mean you'd kiss me?”

“I wasn't thinking of it at the time,” Lance mumbled and Keith shook his head. Ridiculous.

“You're so oblivious it hurts sometimes, you know?” Keith leaned in and let their foreheads rest against each other. He pulled at Lance's hands and twisted them between their laps. “I only played it so I'd get to kiss you.”

“Actually?” The blue of his eyes was more gorgeous than ever and Keith had to resist the urge to kiss Lance again.

“I mean, I wanted to beat your cocky ass but I guess that I kind of wanted to kiss you more.”

“I guess you got what you wanted,” Lance laughed weakly and squeezed their hands together.

“And you didn't,” said Keith, “after all, we tied.”

The was a pause between the two of them; short but imperceptibly there, and it was only in that space that Keith knew he'd said the wrong thing. “Wait, what?” Lance pulled away fully, breaking whatever moment they had been having. “We didn't tie.”

“Yeah, we did. When the players kiss, that means the game was a tie.”

“No, I won. You let go of the Pocky.”

“No, you cheated,” Keith emphasized, “there's a difference. The game ended the true way since neither of us were going to give up in the first place. Why does that bother you?”

Lance was left spluttering again and shifted until his head rested against Keith's shoulder. “Since when did you get so calm about this?”

“Since I figured out that we liked each other about 2 minutes ago which, in case you haven't quite caught on yet, we do.”

Another pause. “We do, huh?”

Keith nodded and tried very hard to keep still as Lance breathed into the crook of his neck. “I didn't know competition was still a thing that bothered you. I'd think that us liking each other sort of overshadowed that.”

“It does.”

“Sure.”

“I mean it.” Lance tilted his head slightly and Keith felt something smooth against his skin. He shivered. “I kind of like you a lot. More than I thought I would.”

“Thank you?”

“I don't kiss people I don't like.”

Keith smirked. What a copy cat. “Could have fooled me.”

Lance pulled away and stared at Keith. “I can't help it if I like you  _and_  your horrible mullet.”

“Just can't quit it with the mullet comments, can you?”

Lance shrugged and flashed him a wry grin. “What can I say? You might make it look great but it's still a bad hair cut.”

“Rude.”

The laughed quietly between themselves and Keith's book lay forgotten on the floor. “Hey,” began Lance, “since we like each other, can I kiss you again?”

He should have expected Lance to be upfront about liking him. Lance have never had a problem with showing affection in his previous relationships and it was clear that whatever they were wasn't going to make him feel any different about it. Having him saying it out loud,  _validating it_ , made Keith much happier than he thought he’d be. “I don't know. Can you?”

“I mean, it's either that or I demand a rematch.” He let go of Keith's hands to grab the red box again. He shook the contents. “What'll it be?”

“Rematch, definitely,” said Keith with a grin, “and I can tell you right now, you're going to lose.” Or tie, thought Keith as he eyed Lance's mouth. He hoped it would be a tie, and judging on the way Lance's eyes kept flicking downwards, Keith could say that his friend (boyfriend? He didn't know) would prefer that they tie as well.

“We'll see about that.” Lance pulled a Pocky out and stuck it between his lips. “Come and get it.”

Keith took the other side into his mouth. Screw his homework. Maybe the Pocky game wasn't so bad. 


End file.
